Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. The spring can't be opened on this side. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. "Then I presume you've not been arrested?" "I have not," answered Wood firmly. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. The ring's yours, and you're mine. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. ‘You don’t believe her?’ ‘My dear Major Alderley, I do not know her,’ Mrs Sindlesham pointed out.
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